On the Wings of a White Prayer
by Scheherazade Nabokov
Summary: The once proud Prince of Koukan, Shou, must endure this curse placed on him for his lack of loyalty to love. In a castle filled with magic and with mysteries. He searches for freedom. He and four others embark on the adventure of a lifetime. Alice Nine
1. I: Shou

**I: Shou**

He had no idea how he had gotten there. Nor did he have any idea why he was wearing a simple white tunic. The gentle scent of lilacs was what woke him up, their drooping blooms gently touched his face enough to wake him from the slumber that had been induced upon him. There were voices, he could hear them, quiet voices of other males other than him. The sound of running water was somewhere in the distance, but the sound of voices was what attracted him the most. 

Where was he? How did he get here? His head hurt from thinking so much. Or was it that he had been hit? No, that couldn't be it, there was no tender spot anywhere on his head to tell him that he had been struck anywhere. 

A thin, sparkling fog seemed to surround everything, it was odd, there was no memory of going to any place like this. Perhaps this was a hallucination from drinking too much last night. Yes, that would explain the headache. But that didn't explain anything else, the place, he had never seen anything like it. Everything seemed to have an ethereal feel to it, almost as if everything was a part of a dream. He couldn't believe that such a place existed.

"Is he awake?" 

"I think he is..."

"Either he is or he's just one Hell of a sleep walker." 

Laughter, he could hear laughter from a distance. There were others here, that was obvious, the voices from before assured him that much. Were they here for the same reason as he was? Then again, what was his reason for being here in the first place? 

"Hello?"

"Oh! He speaks! So he is alive!"

"Right, like Lord Halath would bring back a dead body. You've got one hell of a sense of humor, Hiroto." 

"Well excuse me if I thought he was dead, Tora, he was only laying there for HOURS not moving." 

He could see shapes in the distance, there were four others. Each of them dressed just like him, and they were approaching. It was then when he realized that he was laying face down in quite an awkward position, one foot was in the water of a pond nearby, a small dribble of drool clung to the corner of his mouth, no doubt his hair was a complete and utter mess, and the headache that he had woken up to refused to subside. 

All four of them stood right above him now, staring down at his vulnerable body. He was going to die. They were some sort of freakish race that had teleported him into this world, wherever it was. He was sure there was no place in all of Koukan that looked anything like this. The place was... magical, that was the only word that would come to his mind to describe the place. 

Just absolutely magical. 

The young prince shook his head slightly in an attempt to alleviate him of his headache. Sadly, it only worsened it. It took him a moment to master the pain of the headache but eventually, it faded to a dull throb. Gently, he pulled his that was dipped in the water and found that there was no other body part that was actually in pain. Another wave of nausea later and several curses at his own clumsiness, he was able to pull himself into a sitting position. 

"Ugh... Where am I?"

"The palace of Reja."

"That explains a lot."

"Sure does doesn't it?" 

"So... Uhm... is there a reason why I'm here?" 

The four others stood there staring at him with slightly curious looks on their faces. The tallest one had a small smirk on his face. It was as if he knew something that he didn't know. Well, then again, that was obvious, he had only been conscious for only a few minutes at the most . The prince couldn't put his finger on it, but he swore, he _iswore/i_ that the taller man was, mocking him. He wasn't too grateful when he heard the taller man speak. 

"Well isn't it obvious? You committed a crime of love." 

"I don't think he knows what you're talking about, Tora." The shortest one spoke to him. "He's only been here for like... never." 

"Hiroto, either way, he should know the sin that he committed." 

Tora, and Hiroto, so they did have names. Names that were pronounceable at least. They sounded relatively local, nothing from any sort of foreign land. That was good, the prince hated dealing with foreigners of any sort. Normally, he would just let his parents deal with it. His life as a prince meant that he was respected, he was loved, and he didn't have to do anything while his parents were alive.

His train of memories of his own castle was quickly shattered by the sound of Hiroto's voice. The shorter man stared at the taller one, challenging Tora's opinion. 

"Some people aren't as observant as you." He chided. "Some of us aren't all about knowing what sin we've committed like you. And anyways, it's not like you're innocent of the same sort of crime."

"Well they should be." Tora retorted with a slight sneer at the prince. "He even has a little crown. Must mean that he's committed the worst crime out of all of us if he can carry around that thing. I wonder if he should be proud..." Tora snorted slightly when Hiroto mentioned his sin. "Yes, I'm guilty of the same crime, so are you and so is everyone else here. I don't see why he has to get special treatment." 

"Tora, you really need to work on your social skills you know that? Just because you're a noble, don't treat everyone else like they're dirt. He's new here. We might as well make him feel welcome." Hiroto cringed at how proud Tora seemed to be. The shorter man shrank just slightly against the intimidating aura that Tora was giving off. 

"He doesn't have to feel welcome, i_here/i" _Tora sneered. "None of us really have to feel welcome, or needed. We're just very free prisoners." 

"You make it sound like a punishment!"

"It is! How in the world is this something that you would like?!" 

The rest of the conversation, the prince tuned out, their voices getting too loud for his liking. He turned to the other two who were standing there who only looked exasperatedly at two that were fighting. 

"Fine. Since you two are so involved with talking amongst yourselves and ignoring the new one, we might as well explain the whole situation to you before you start going crazy. My name's Nao, this here is Saga, those two over there are Tora and Hiroto." He gestured with a perfectly manicured hand. 

Saga nodded when Nao gestured towards him his dark brown hair covered one of his eyes, to the prince, he seemed to be a gentle soul who would be willing to help out, though, there was still an air of mystery about him, something that he couldn't put his finger on. "To make it simple for all of us, I might as well give you a briefing of why we're here. Though, you'll experience that first hand in the morning." 

That didn't sound good. 

Nao finished the speech for Saga. "Pretty much the lot of us are held here 'cause we committed a crime of love. For the most part, I'm pretty sure it's a case of bad loyalty. We've all got our reasons and our stories, but that's for some other time. Lord Halath's daughter over there watches over us for the most part to make sure that we don't run off somewhere."

"His daughter watches over you guys?"

"Yes, are you deaf of hearing or something? Anyways---"

"You've never tried to rebel against her? She's only a girl."

"Right, only a girl who's got mastery over magic. Sure, we'd love to try and rebel against her." Saga's voice dripped with sarcasm as he watched the exchange between the prince and Nao. "It's the obvious and very logical thing to do." The brunette chuckled slightly. 

The prince looked over his shoulder where Nao pointing to see an exceptionally pale girl sitting and pouring her heart out over a book it seemed.

A book.

How frivolous! 

He wanted to laugh, he wanted take the pages of the book and rip them from her grasp. Women weren't supposed to be informed through words, they were born and made for gossip! There was no way, no way that this girl could be educated enough to read a book. He himself was quite disgusted at the thought. A feeling of hatred welled up inside of him, a feeling that he couldn't explain, but right then and there, he knew that he was going to have problems with her. He knew, right there that there was something just wrong with her. A girl like her shouldn't exist. 

"Tell me, Nao..." He murmured staring at the girl in the corner. "What's her name?"

"I'm pretty sure it's Lajath." Nao answered squatting down from where he stood and played with a few stray strands of grass that had grown faster than their neighbors. "Or at least, that's what I think..."

"Lajath eh?" 

He snorted slightly, a fittingly odd name for an odd girl. He couldn't help but want to laugh at everything about her. There was nothing 'lady like' about her. No matter how grand the castle was, no matter how beautiful it wall was and all of it splendors, she was no lady. He could tell that right away. No lady would spend the night reading outside in the moonlight. It was just simply unheard of. 

Was she trying to pick a suitor out of the five of them? She was probably the one who had whisked the lot of them here. Yes, that was it, that was her reason for being here. The 'caretaker' or 'watcher' role that she took, why, that was just a cover up for her to get close to them. That had to be it. There was no other explanation for her odd behavior. That had to be it, what a disgusting girl, taking advantage of men, asking for her dear father to bring them at her beck and call. It made him want to vomit. A female such as her shouldn't exist. There shouldn't be someone like her, it was her fault that he was missing out his wedding, it was her fault that his country would crumble, it was all her fault. 

I_ "A girl like that... should be killed... as soon as possible..."/i_

"Oh, that's right. We never got your name." Nao said out of the blue, making the young prince snap out of his reverie. "It's only polite to introduce yourself after you've been introduced to."

Both Hiroto and Tora stopped their bickering for a moment, remembering that there was indeed another person in their wake. Saga looked up the pond of water, he had been hunched over, drawing little shapes in the water, mumbling little incoherent things to himself. 

"... Shou." The prince finally said after a moment of silence had transpired from the realization that none of them knew his name. "Prince Shou of the Koukan kingdom." 

"Well... that explains the crown they gave you." Tora muttered with a smirk, earning a glare from the prince.

"Indeed, this... is an interesting turn of events..." Hiroto mumbled staring at Shou. "An interesting turn of events indeed. Looks like you're not the only noble here now." He jested poking the taller man in the side. Tora made a slight grunting noise but said nothing. 

Another moment of silence, this one more awkward than the last one. He could almost feel the pressure that he had put on all of them. 

He could tell that this was going to be one Hell of an adventure with these men. 

"So... what happens in the morning?" He asked, wondering what punishment awaited them. 


	2. II: Tora

**II: Tora**

Noble born, tall, handsome, eloquent, aristocratic, he was everything that a woman could ever want, he had it all, money, looks, whatever a girl wanted, he probably could have provided it. There wasn't a girl that wouldn't swoon after him, his parents loved him so dearly, even after his exploits with the girls in the red light district. There was nothing that he couldn't do, nothing that he didn't want. There was nothing in the world that he couldn't get, nothing except for happiness.

His parents had given him everything he had ever wanted, a good life, good clothes, a strong name, Tora, and everything he could ask for. He had love from his parents whenever he asked for it, he was never neglected, but yet, he couldn't help but feel as though there was something missing in the deserted halls of the manor. His father, found it frivolous to have servants or children around to attend to and to play with his son. He had indeed grown up loved, but without the company of children his age. He had been raised with the unconditional love from his parents and no one else, Tora was lonely, and thus from that loneliness he sought company that was beyond what his parents had provided for him, he sought after the companionship that had been denied by his parents the moment that he could leave the manor on his own.

He sought solace in the company of women at a young age. There was nothing to do for him, nothing but to live life as a beautiful man. That fact scared him, he didn't want to sit listlessly and aimlessly just wandering around all the deserted halls and being beautiful without any sort of reward in the end. However, try as he might, he couldn't find anything that his parents provided would keep his interest for a long enough time. Nothing that was given to him was ever good enough, nothing, no books, no hunting equipment, no finery; nothing could entertain him for a long enough time. He found nothing but boredom within the confines of the manor, there wasn't anything that could slake his thirst for something to do. He found hunting to be a bore, all it was was chasing after animals that could be caught by the hunters his father had hired. He found that books were even worse, just a bunch of printed words that made no sense to him no matter how much he wanted to learn. He found that pretty much everything else he was almost immediately bored with. Nothing seemed to be able to keep his interest at all. Nothing except for the company of women.

How he adored the opposite gender, how he delighted in the way that they could ceaselessly entertain him. They were beyond any of the inanimate, lifeless things that his parents had ever given him. They were something else entirely. He was rich, and could afford to keep them for a long time, and for once, he had something that he was in love with. Sex. He could remember, clearly, even when in the accursed garden in the moonlight, he could remember his first time with a woman. He could remember the feel of her skin against his own, her hot breath against his face, neck, and his whole body. How he relished the memory like the rarest treasure on the earth, he remembered it all, the pleasure of his whole body feeling as if it were on being lit by some sort of internal fire; the guttural cries of pleasure that he , the climax and the afterglow, everything, all as if it had just happened. He was seventeen when that happened.

It wasn't too soon after that he became some what of a sex fiend. He couldn't stop wanting that same sort pleasure that he had received, he couldn't stop breaking so many women's hearts, he just kept on screwing himself over with the brothels that he and his close friends would go to every other night.

Of course, Tora knew what he was doing was wrong, deep down inside he was screaming for someone who would come out and reach to heal him, to do something about his obsession. He knew it the first time he lost himself in a fit of passion. He only knew of passion though, it was the only thing that he could act on properly, the heat of the moment and nothing else. All he could think about was his pleasure, he couldn't concentrate on anything else other than the feeling of being in euphoria. Tora couldn't think straight anymore, everything that he wanted to do, every action that he did, he somehow linked it back to sex. The obsession with pleasure became so bad that he started to neglect everything that he knew. He began to shun all those that kept him close to their hearts.

He was beginning to have serious problems with himself, both physically and mentally.

He could feel it happening to him, the draining of his energy, the lethargy and the lack of interest in everything else in his life. It was during this time when he couldn't do anything, think of anything other than to be with a woman. What had once been a hobby of his had somehow turned into an obsession, one that he couldn't break the habit of. It was no longer pleasurable, it was a chore, something that he had to do to keep living now, it was no longer fun for him to be in bed anymore, it was simply a habit, a thing that he had to do in order to feel alive again.

He knew he had sinned. He knew it and it no longer became pleasurable for him for him to sleep with them, but the obsession, the addiction, the whole drive to be one with a woman drove him to sin against it even more. He felt nothing anymore and he wanted escape from the whole world of misery that he had put himself into. He wanted to find someone who would fill him and tell him that it was alright. He wanted something to help him.

And as usual, he got what he wanted.

The perfect woman, the one that satisfied all his needs, everything he could ever want was from her, he couldn't have asked for a more perfect being than her. When he was around her, he could do nothing, the two of them didn't need sex to get them through the night, rather, he was recklessly in love with her in a single night, talking nonsensical things and talking with her deep into the night. The woman was the most amazing person that Tora had ever met. Ironically, he had found her at one of the balls that his parents would throw every now and then to try and get him to commit to one woman.

He had gotten bored within the first hour of the party, his urge to be in bed with someone was already starting and his control was slipping quite quickly. That was the moment when _she_ appeared in his life. _She_ was somehow, miraculously, like a saint, take away all his urges to be with anyone but her. _She_ was the one that he had been looking for ever since his problems started to develop. She was the one who was able to save him from the hole that he had dug for himself.

_Kila._

Even now, the name rolled off his tongue sweetly, made him think of happier days before his capture. Even at a time like this, when he saw nothing but the ethereal fog that surrounded the castle, he found it wonderful that he could continue to think of her, how sweetly he was reminded of her simplistic purity and innocence, the one that he couldn't take away no matter how much he planned. The one that he wanted to steal away from her betrothed.

Tora would do anything in his power to steal away the man who took her heart first. He was willing to sacrifice his reputation, willing to do anything to have her. He was willing to kill, steal, destroy, commit any sin within his humanly power to get her, sell his soul to the evils of the world, and gouge out his eyes for her sake. She was everything, his sunshine, his air, his world, he would do the impossible for her.

Even kill _him._

_Dajath._

Tora despised that name, hated it with a passion and a fervor that could border obsession. He could never understand how such a simple man as he could ever have her attention. It never occurred to Tora that Dajath had something that he didn't. He never paused to think of the qualities that that man had that he himself didn't. All he knew was that the woman in his life, the only woman that he knew would love him deeply was betrothed to _that man. _

How detested Dajath was in his life, a hindrance that he couldn't get rid of. Tora was willing to go through all the levels of Hell for her, all of them, what did this other man over him? What did Dajath have that Tora couldn't provide? The questions kept on plaguing his mind until it came to the final decision.

Dajath could not live.

Tora had to kill him, destroy the life that hindered his happiness with Kila. He had to get rid of that soul that threatened to remove any sort of relief he had in his life from the vicious cycle of needing so much sex. Kila was the first person in his life that was willing to accept him, was the first woman that he found himself comfortable enough to have a normal conversation with and talk about anything to. She was the first person in his life that didn't treat him as if he was another human with a problem. She was the first person that he didn't mind not making out with, just simply being normal for once. It was a feeling that he wanted so badly, one that he could not live without. It was a feeling that he was willing to murder in cold blood for.

Tora could remember the triumphant feeling that coursed through his blood that night. Poor Dajath, drugged and sleeping, his dearest Kila, wife to be, was safely stowed away in the confines of his castle, not knowing anything about his plans for the night. It was all mapped out. She would worry about her husband finding out, he would reassure her that the two of them were safe and the drugs would leave poor Dajath into a slumber that he would never wake from.

That was the plan, it was so perfect, it was so meticulously planned out and nothing would ever go wrong. That was until the stroke of midnight that night.

He was sitting there, sweetly speaking to Kila, gently caressing her hair, softly whispering meaningless phrases of nothing into her ear. The candles were lit around them, a golden halo of protection that the two of them had.

And then the knock upon the door.

The sound that he forbade for the rest of the night. Tora couldn't understand why his servants would do such a thing as disobey his orders.

Until he saw who it was at the door.

The man he detested, fury in his eyes, a bloodied butcher's knife in his hand. Sweet human life dripped in red rivers down the blade of the knife. For the first time in his life, he was truly afraid. For the first time in his life, his plan did not go as he wanted it to. For once in his life, he didn't know who to call on or what to do.

It was during this fear that he saw that witch. The one that continues to watch over him now. Her pale complexion stood out starkly against the barely moon lit sky. The waxing crescent of the lunar disk he was so familiar with hung over her head of raven dark hair like a halo upon some sort of twisted and demonic angel. She stood there, watching him, her gray eyes never leaving him.

And he could feel the fear seep into his veins and through to his bones where it settled, paralyzing him and leaving him immovable while Dajath simply brushed past the lord in order to retrieve his wife-to-be.

It was then when he saw a flurry of movement, and then all was black.

Tora awoke in the same sort of condition that Shou had arrived earlier that day. And the arrival of the prince only brought back all the memories of his life free from the ethereally shrouded castle with the damned witch watching them all the time. The arrival of the prince also brought back the memories of the loneliness of being the only captive in the castle.

"_Why am I here?"_

"_Why is it that you think you are here?"_

"_What do you want? Is it money? I can give that to you! Servants? Tutors? Hawks? Books? I have it all! Just tell me what your price is."_

"_Your heart."_

"_My heart?"_

"_Your clean, pure, uncorrupted heart as it was before you started to sleep around. Only when you have atoned for your crime of love may you leave this place."_

"_How... how can I do that?"_

"_... The punishment is not up to me. It is up to my father." _

He recalled another fleeting moment of fear within him. The feeling of dread that came with the knowing that this punishment was something that he would no doubt hate.

At the coming of dawn, Tora, the once proud young lord of Tsubasa manor was reduced to nothing but a bundle of feathers.

And so began the cycle. 


	3. III: Hiroto

**III: Hiroto**

It was on rainy days that he always found inspiration. It was always those gray, gloomy days in which no birds sang that he found the most beautiful melodies to sing for himself and those around him. The gentle rhythm of the rain against the window panes, the sobbing patterns that were created by the little rivers on the glass all gave him inspiration. Through those cold gray days, he could find warmth and solace through the music of his lute. It was a beautiful thing for him.

Like the rain, he was tied down to nowhere and appeared from nowhere as well. He constantly wandered, wherever the wind took him, wherever the rain fell, he was there, singing, wandering, always wandering and entertaining. His youthful facade told little about the pain he held inside. The everlasting loneliness that he was plagued with. The cheery smile that he gave all the girls that threw themselves at him was more than fake to him, it was painful.

It pained him to see so many beautiful women give him the one thing that they should have saved for their husbands. It pained him to hear them say those three words to him and have it mean nothing more than a chance to get into bed with him. It hurt the most when he knew he couldn't control himself from being away in bed with one of them for the sake of some sort of release. It pained him that he himself could lose his whole sense of sanity in the throes of passion and pleasure.

And he still wanted to save himself for her.

Cythera.

Beautiful, melodic, faceless, nonexistent. That was what she was, a voice, a muse, nothing more than that. Precious Cythera, the melody that he always sang to in his songs, the person he always searched for in the crowds. Beloved Cythera, the one that he could never hold for she was nothing more than an idea in his head, but yet, at the same time, she was so much more. Holy Cythera, the grail that he searched for every town he went to, the goddess that he worshiped and the only one that he wanted to be with.

She spoke to him, her voice never above a soft, sing-song whisper. She sang to him, her melodies the inspirations for the songs he wrote for the mortal realm. She gently caressed him, her fingers the cooling spring breeze, her scent the blossoms upon the blooming trees. She was so alive in everything that he lived. And yet, she was dead to all those around him. She was his only shining ray of light, his hope, his dream, his love, his being, his soul, his life.

Cythera, Cythera, Cythera.

How precious the name seemed to him, though known by no one else. How sweet the name called to him, though no one was there to listen other than him. How delicious her being was, though she was nothing more than the whispering wind outside the rain drenched window. She was so real and yet so ethereal to him, it was so hard to tell the line between what part of her was real and what wasn't.

Every time he released his seed into a girl, it was her that he envisioned. Every time he slept with a virgin, it was she that he was defiling. Never those girls that he gave into, it was never them that he saw. No, it was _her. _Cythera.

His muse.

His only love.

His only woman.

His.

Perhaps that was the only reason he traveled from place to place, following her whispers and her calls. Perhaps it was the idea of one day, one day in the future far away from the gloomy present, the clouds would finally blow away and he could see the sun that had been hidden for so long. One day, he wished that his precious Cythera would finally come to him, or rather, he to her.

Day by day, he prayed that the rain around him would lift, that the spell of loneliness that had been cast about him would finally lift and that he could stop singing, stop calling out for her and rest in peace. That was his only wish.

To be with her.

Only her.

And yet, no matter where he traveled, she was with him, always right there, but never more than a whisper to him. A distant song, a far away heart beat that he could barely hear, but knew, knew that she was there with him, by his side.

Hiroto barely remembered the place he came from, the area that he was born in. He had been traveling for so long that it was nothing more than a starting pint so many years ago. The faint memories of a warm household that cared for him, always encouraged his singing, always remembered that he wasn't meant to be tied down to the little town. They were always ready to see him off when he saw it was time for him to leave. And no doubt, in that little town, if they were still alive, they would welcome him into their lives once again.

It wasn't until he finally stopped in the kingdom of Kowloon did he realize that it wasn't a dream at all. She truly existed.

The stunning princess of the land, Cythera.

The beautiful maiden of his heart.

The one that he had been waiting for.

So close.

So out of reach.

So real.

Hiroto did everything he could to get to her, get a little closer to his muse, his inspiration, his life, his woman. Everything that was within his power, he did. The bard could barely get past the gates of the palace where his beloved was. He could never get any closer than the front steps of the grand castle in which she resided in.

Hiroto resorted to watching her from afar, staring at a distance in a tall enough tree. Drawing songs from her milky pale skin, her brilliant blue eyes, her shining golden hair, all of it became songs, love songs, each one of them about how much he yearned for her, how much he wished for her to be with him. To finally make him feel complete.

His songs, were like the songs of the birds at the crack of dawn. Always singing to someone so special, so dear to the heart, though never reaching the intended. Instead, it was always the others that came to him, the ones that the songs were not intended for.

Many blue eyed girls, so many voluptuous blonds. None of them his dearest Cythera. None of them could ever be his muse of inspiration.

It was a rainy night when it happened.

When the final inspiration hit him and he knew that he had to somehow break into the castle to see her, to speak to her, once, just once would be enough for him, just once to hear her voice, to have her listen to what he dedicated so many hours to.

It was a rainy night when he put his plan into action. There was no stars in the sky, the light of the moon broke through the clouds at sporadic moments, showing a silver sliver of light past the magical glowing lamps that dimly lit the streets on such a dreary night. The sound of a million invisible drops of water silenced his footsteps while he worked his way up the hillside. His body wrapped in a dark cloak that kept the rain away from his precious lute as well as his face.

It was a perfect night for his plan. Everything was going so well.

Until he got to the very steps of the castle.

He should have noticed that there was something wrong the moment he set foot onto the cobbled steps there. The way the wall of rain poured behind him, and in front of him, cloudless skies as well as the full moon. The silver halo of light he had followed throughout the night to his goal. He was standing right there, in the place he had pined away at for so long. And here, here he was hindered by awe and by a voice that he could swear was coming from everywhere and yet, from nowhere at the same time.

"_Hiroto... you may not pass these steps..." _

The voice rang out like bells during the winter nights. Clearly he could hear her voice, a lilting, almost sing song voice that came from the trees, the buildings, the ground itself it seemed. Her voice commanded him to stay in the midway of being soaked by the rain behind him and being dry by some magical barrier that had been put before the castle that night.

"W-why?"

"_You will never make her happy."_

"You can't make me believe that! I can make her happy! I can!"

"... Then prove it to me."

There she was, Cythera. The beautiful, ethereal muse he sought after for so long. Her long golden hair flared out behind her by an unfelt wind, her brilliant green eyes that shone brightly even in the dimly lit moonlight, a halo of warm golden light from the door framed her body. She was even more beautiful to him when she was standing there, talking to him.

He had to answer her. He had to show her that he was worthy of her love.

"I-I ... I could show you the whole world!"

"Can you provide for my clothes?"

"N-no... I cannot my Lady, but... we don't need fine clothes when we're traveling!"

"By carriage I hope."

"No... by foot my Lady..."

"By foot?!" The girl scoffed, laughing at the bard's foolishness. "Oh you are a fool indeed. I am perfectly content with my life here... there's no reason for you to come and try to make it better with your silly peasantry ways."

He could have sworn he felt his heart break.

"But my lady! I could write you songs! I would love you more than anyone ever could!"

"Maybe... you should try getting to know me a bit better first. Before trying to kidnap me away from my happy home. What good is taking me away when I don't even know your name?"

"_Your crime has been stated... repent or regret it forever more." _

This time, he could pin point where it came from. Right behind him.

A maiden, of his height stood there, her bodice haloed by the light of the full moon. She was the exact opposite of his fair Cythera. A regal, deadly beauty that held unspoken power, that was she, the witch.

"W-what do you want?! I'll never take back my love for her!"

"_Then you shall be punished... for fooling yourself... into believing that love could be that simple." _

Her lips did not move. Her eyes simply stared at him. Her head tilted slightly to the left. And he could remember no more of that night. Simply the silent sound of feathers fluttering towards the ground. The feeling of being betrayed. As well as the curse to sing to no one.

No one in the world would ever hear his songs again.

Except for the morning sun.


End file.
